Of Weevils and Weeping
by SophieWofy
Summary: Two men died that night. Only one came back to life. Janto. Character death, be warned.


_Two men died that night. Only one came back to life._

It all started off so normal. A Weevil on the loose, roaming through the streets of Cardiff. Torchwood had handled the scenario so many times before, it was almost as natural to them as breathing. They almost had it cornered in an alleyway, with Jack advancing from one end and Ianto from the other. Gwen had stopped in the street to take a phone call from PC Andy, asking whether a 'drooling man-sized monster' had anything to do with Torchwood. Of course it did, came the sarcastic response.

The very word 'drooling' should have triggered something in Gwen's mind. Weevils don't drool. But she was too annoyed to think straight. She'd fallen out with Rhys earlier about the colour of their bathroom that they were planning to decorate (he wanted green, she wanted cream), and Andy's phone call had been the last straw.

Jack was closing in on the Weevil as Gwen turned to look up the alleyway, still talking with Andy. She noticed, even from a distance, that his body language was different from usual. She could tell something was wrong.

--

Jack advanced slowly on the creature, gun in hand. There was something different about this Weevil in particular, and it worried him. It seemed almost rabid. But Weevils couldn't get rabies...could they?

Shrugging the particulars aside, he tried to aim at the snarling creature. He could see Ianto on the other side, attempting the same thing, but shooting Weevils was dangerous. They were easily provoked, and the weapon wasn't the most placid thing Jack could be holding. And the creature in front of Jack seemed ready to pounce at any moment.

"Get away, Ianto." Jack spoke firmly but quietly over the comms, knowing that if the Weevil attacked, he didn't want the young man to fall prey. If it attacked Jack, he would heal. If it attacked Ianto...Jack shuddered at the thought.

Ianto didn't move, and Jack couldn't decide whether it was out of foolishness or bravery. Jack knew he would do anything to prove himself, but there was no doubting his loyalty any more.

Jack opened his mouth to repeat the instruction, but he didn't get the chance to speak. It was at that moment the Weevil lunged at Ianto, ripping it's foaming mouth into the Welshman's neck.

Jack screamed, and launched himself at the creature, attempting to wrestle it from his lover. Common sense would have told him to shoot, but Jack didn't want to run the risk of the bullet hitting Ianto instead.

The Weevil turned its attention to Jack, as it let go of Ianto's neck. His limp body, covered in blood, dropped to the floor. The Weevil ripped into Jack, and he didn't try to struggle, despite the excruciating pain. He knew at that moment it was too late. Ianto was dead.

--

Gwen ran down the alleyway and fired a bullet at the Weevil, rendering it dead immediately. Jack fell from its grasp, but he wasn't her primary concern. She knew he would come back to life reasonably soon. It was Ianto she had to tend to.

The sight of her colleague nearly made her physically sick. His head was almost completely detached from his body, and although she habitually checked for a pulse, she knew inside that there was no way he could have survived.

Slumping down against the cold brick wall at the side of the alleyway, she cradled Ianto's body in her arms. She was too numb to cry, and she loathed the dead Weevil beside her. She hated the whole species. She had spent countless days chasing them around Cardiff when she could have been spending time with Rhys. Hell, it was even a Weevil's fault that she was at Torchwood in the first place.

She sobbed quietly, clinging to the motionless Ianto. He didn't deserve to die; he was so young, with such a promising life ahead of him. Darkness came, and still Gwen sat.

She didn't know how long she had been there when she heard Jack's voice, but she suspected a good few hours. It was almost impossible to see, and she wouldn't have known he was alive again had he not addressed her.

"He's dead, isn't he?"

"Yes." Gwen forced the word out, even though it pained her to do so. The cold had set into her bones, but she barely noticed. It was only as Jack touched her arm that she felt his warmth, and realised that he was never that warm when newly revived. It had to mean that she was colder than usual.

Jack took off his blood-covered greatcoat and slipped it over Gwen's shoulders.

"We have to get back," he said quietly. The sadness in his voice was notable, and Gwen didn't have the heart to argue. She let Jack bend down and take Ianto from her arms. She followed him as he carried their dead colleague back to the car and laid him across the back seat. She opened the driver's door, knowing that Jack wouldn't be able to drive so soon after being savaged to death, and watched in horror as he walked back down the alleyway, and returned with the dead Weevil.

"What are you doing?" Gwen asked as he opened the boot and literally threw it inside before slamming it shut.

"We can't leave it out here," Jack explained, and Gwen knew he was right.

She drove in silence back to the Hub, and Jack spent the journey with his neck turned to look at the back seat. Once they pulled up, he was out of the car barely before the engine was turned off, and carried Ianto inside.

He laid the dead man down on the hospital bed, not caring for the bloodstains on his own clothes. He knew the two newest recruits to the team, the medic and the technology genius, had gone home for the night, and for that Jack was glad. He wanted to be alone with Ianto.

Gwen came over to him and put an arm around his shoulder. "There was nothing you could have done," she reassured him.

Jack turned to face her. "I died too. I know exactly how he felt when that thing killed him, because it happened to me, too. It was horrible, Gwen. I always hoped that he'd die in old age, because Torchwood has claimed too many young lives. I tried to protect him from the dangerous things, but in the end it's what's routine that killed him. It's not fair, Gwen. What did he do to deserve this?"

Tears streaked down both their faces as they looked down at their fallen colleague.

"What do we say to the others?" Jack asked, slumping back into a chair. "What do we do?"

"I don't know," Gwen whispered. "I guess we carry on, as always."

"We always carry on, though!" Jack stood up and lashed out, kicking the chair backwards and sending it flying. "When do we ever get the chance to do what normal people do, and mourn our loved ones? Never, 'cause we always have to bloody carry on!"

Gwen stared, stunned. She pulled Jack's coat, which was still around her shoulders, tighter to her body.

"He loved you, Jack," she said eventually. "I don't think you'll ever understand quite how much you meant to him."

"I loved him too." Jack broke down as he walked back over to Ianto's body and wiped the blood from his face. He stood there, cleaning his dead lover with a damp cloth that had been left by the bed in a plastic jug of water. When Ianto's face was blood-free, Jack closed his eyelids and kissed him softly on the mouth.

"Thankyou for making me happy."


End file.
